


Free Cookies

by Pearly_Pornography



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Alcohol, Awkward Boners, Dacryphilia, M/M, Masturbation, Nathan is a sloppy mess, Punishment, Stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 14:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9128686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Pornography/pseuds/Pearly_Pornography
Summary: Because Nathan had no idea Charles liked sweet shit.





	

**Author's Note:**

> been writing a lot of sad preklok fics recently and my pingas needs Freedom

Nathan had no idea Charles liked candy, or sweet stuff in general. But after Toki mentioned that he kept sweets in his office, Nathan was intrigued.

His interest was utterly piqued. Charles must've had posh tastes, judging by his personality. Though usually Nathan found it easy enough to live on cheap shit and crappy, storebought garbage, he couldn't help being wildly drawn to the lure of possible delicious, European-imported chocolates and bakery-fresh cookies. He could almost taste all of those expensive sugars and other high-quality ingredients, and dammit, that was what he deserved! So when he was suddenly hungry mid-day while everyone else was busy, he knew exactly where to go.

Digging through the cabinets in Charles' office, Nathan hastily found a collection of old Valentine's Day chocolates. Most of them were signed off with Klokateer numbers, though a few from, surprisingly, Dethklok fans. He had no idea Charles had fans. Regardless, if he wasn't gonna eat this stuff, someone else would have to, right? Nathan rationalized his actions easily, shoveling an entire box of the little bonbons into his fat gullet before peeling through more drawers. Another stack of boxes, including Skwisgaar's soon-to-be-world-famous Swedish princess cake. Nathan stared at the marzipan-covered behemoth of deliciousness, knowing full well that it was packed with shitloads of cream and spongecake. Not even bothering to cut the damn thing into slices, he shoved his face into it, savoring the godly mix of textures between his teeth.

Quickly guzzling down the entire cake, which wasn't too big, to be fair, Nathan peered into the other secret stash spaces of Charles' office, and didn't find much of anything. Which obviously meant the next logical step would be breaking into Charles' bedroom and raiding his mini-fridge. He'd been in there before, he knew there was, in fact, a mini-fridge to raid. The only thing possibly stopping him was sheer force of will, especially since the door wasn't locked.

Discarding the idea that he'd leave food lying around after seeing how clean the room was, Nathan dove into his various drawers. He discovered a fine red wine, not even opened. Immediately Nathan cracked the bottle open and chugged half of the contents, practically tasting the godlike quality on his lips. The label was in French, a fine bordeaux rouge, he took another drink after swirling the bottle around a bit to let the flavor settle. It had a wonderful flavor. Only Charles Ofdensen, Nathan supposed, but he still envied the man for even having this stuff. (Though, frankly, Nathan could get it whenever he very well pleased, but then he'd have to wait for it to ship in and all that crap.) He cracked the empty bottle over Charles' desk for emphasis, feeling like a badass.

Of course his mini-fridge was tucked away from all of his other stuff. Testing a drawer above it, Nathan found a box of cookies. Free cookies! They were most likely a present for Charles' birthday, which had been pretty recent. Yeah, Murderface had given him home-made chocolaty chip motherfuckers, right? Though Nathan hardly trusted anything that came from those grubby, calloused bassist hands, they looked pretty damn good. Not to mention anyone who weighed that much had better know their damn food.

Damn, was he not prepared. After all these days they were still gooey, fucking thick, amazing meshing of textures. How come Murderface never gave HIM cookies for his stupid birthday?! Though at this point between the alcohol and the overindulgence, Nathan felt as though his guts were having trouble keeping up with his brain, there was no way he was stopping here. And dammit, in the little freezer there was ice cream! Tears nearly sprung to his eyes as he looked at the delicious frozen treat, packed into a little tub, and giving it a lick, tasted the amazingly sweet flavor. A Neapolitan ice cream! Three flavors in one! His stomach clenched at the concept of even more food, but his mind said 'fuck it', and he shoved his face inside.

Soon enough it was all gone. One thing sat in the fridge, a small white box with a nice bit of weight to it. He let out a sick burp, realizing he'd gone way outside of his physical tolerance, unveiling a delicious, thick chocolate mousse cake. God, he really shouldn't... 

But it looked SO FUCKING GOOD.

And it was all cut into slices, just for him. Ready to be eaten.

He peeled the little slices away from the paper, taking a bite when the door slammed open. His fist clenched around the delicious cake, and he didn't look towards the noise, dammit, he couldn't pretend he didn't know who it was.

"My meeting ended early." His monotone was painful. "Funny seeing you here."

"...Oh, this- this was yours?"

"It's in my room, Nathan."

"Well- well excuse me! Fuck you, I don't... I don't know this shit..."

"...Nathan." He could practically hear the scowl on Charles' face. "Look at me."

"I don't wanna."

"Look. At me."

Nathan whined, turning to look Charles in the eye. Charles still wore his usual expression of indifference, but was clearly not happy. "Well, finish that off."

"No, I-I was honestly getting gut cramps anyway, uh--"

"I'm waiting."

Another gruff whimper, as odd as it sounded coming from Nathan's mouth. He stared at the cake. Suddenly, it looked scary, he felt damn guilty. It was that fatherly bullshit. Nervously opening his mouth, he took his first, unfinished slice into his jaws, choking it down. His stomach let out a horrific grumble. 

"...Okay, I--"

"All of it."

"I can't, my fucking insides are gonna end up outside."

Another disgusting belch rolled from his throat. Charles cocked a brow, not relenting in the least. Nathan went silent, other than the rolling in his guts, then quietly cramming another two slices into his mouth. He felt like his stomach was heavy, digging his fingers in his own thick, overstuffed paunch. 

"Your stomach is sticking out of your shirt."

"Nnnh..."

Charles knelt down, scraping a bit of chocolate off of his face. 

"Do you need help?"

"I'm gonna be sick, Ofdensen."

"Hush now." Charles placed a hand on the back of Nathan's head, flicking his loose jaw open with his thumb. In his other hand was another slice of the delicious, thick, fucking scrumptious, torturous hell-cake from hell. It scraped across his face, chocolate sticking to his cheeks along with the myriad of other uneaten crumbs. He forced himself to chew it up and choke it down, then followed by another, and another. Then was the last one.

"Charlesh." He still spoke with a mouthful of cake, face red and cheeks sticky. "Wait."

"You brought this upon yourself."

"Pleashh."

He attempted to shove Charles away, and that's when he saw it. Right there, in Charles' pants. Sticking out like a hill. Charles had a fucking boner. Nathan blinked, bewildered, before looking at his manager, who was red in the face and sweating down his back. Silently, the last slice was wedged into his mouth, and he let out a loud whine.

Charles stared at him for a moment, nearly expressionless behind his glasses, then placing a hand tentatively on Nathan's tummy, hearing it grunt in protest. The pain was so unbearable, a few loose tears gushed down the singer's face, and he threw his arms over his eyes, blubbering into his own skin. Charles huffed, rubbing over the plane of taught flesh covering Nathan's gut, allowing him to sob into the creases of his elbows.

"...Good boy."

His voice was tinged with lust, Nathan could tell. Then was the sound of a zipper. He peered from behind his arms, seeing Charles gripping his hard dick right there. "I wasn't at a meeting. I... figured you'd come in here after learning of my... slight sweet tooth." His fingers dug into the plush fat of Nathan's gut. "I have to get my entertainment somehow."

"Just finish and fuck off!" More tears streamed from his eyes, almost sitting up at rocket speed before his stomach let out another awful sound, and he laid back, wailing in terrible pain. 

"I suppose you don't mind then. Very well." Skin-on-skin slapping noises filled the little room, as Charles hastily came spurts all over Nathan's stomach and thighs. "Good... good boy. I'll pay you back for this sooner or later, I..."

Nathan had wadded his hands between his legs, face still damp.

"Just let me take a cold shower and a nap, and we'll be even."

"...Understood."

"And, uh, if you ever wanna... kick my ass again then... yeah."

"Right."

"And fucking get back to rubbing, I'm in horrific agony right now."

"Alright, alright."

This was the start of a beautiful... friendship?


End file.
